plumage; but their notes were most
monotonous. The birds of the Pacific isles have
no song. The nights in Norfolk Island are
more beautiful than a European can imagine.
The moon gives a light by which a newspaper
may be read with ease. The air is generally
clear; and during the writership, when I
had a hut to myself in the midst of a large
garden, I have frequently at dead of night
left my hammock and walked about the
garden, with no other clothing than my nightdress,
without experiencing the slightest ill effect.

We had but one storm during my stay
there, but that was terrific. Such rain! it
came down rather in sheets than in drops;
and the thunder seemed to shake the very
island. Snow had not been seen for many
years. None of the trees are deciduous, and
the pasture-lands there present the appearance
of a rich green velvet. Mount Pitt, a
thousand feet above the level of the sea, is
crowned with trees of the richest foliage and
every variety of tint. Conspicuous amongst
them rises the graceful Norfolk Island pine.
The lanes in many parts of the Island are
lined on each side by lemon trees, meeting
overhead, and hung with the golden fruit,
forming a fragrant bower miles in length.
The harbour of Sydney is highly picturesque;
Ceylon is magnificent in scenery; and there
are parts of Van Dieman's Land of great
beauty; but Norfolk Island is the loveliest
spot I ever beheld. How strange, I have
often thought, that such a Paradise should
be the chosen abode of the refuse of criminals,
doubly and trebly sifted.

I had passed two years and six months on
the Island when news arrived, that, in
consequence of representations made to the home
authorities of the abominations and
misgovernment in that settlement, the establishment
was to be broken up; and I was
removed with three hundred other prisoners
to Van Dieman's Land.

For more than three years I had now been
deprived of my liberty. "Hope deferred"
had, long since, made my heart sick. Letters
and statements, which I had myself written
and despatched to England under the greatest
difficulties, while labouring in the fields, and
while sick in the hospital, had served to keep
alive my hopes; and it was well for me,
perhaps, when after fixing the time that must
elapse before a reply could be returned, and
marking anxiously the months as they rolled
away, I eagerly watched for the arrival of a
vessel in the harbour, that I was ignorant of
the fact that scarcely one of these appeals
ever reached its destination, and that one
upon which I had most relied, addressed by
the chaplain of the Island to the first Minister
of the Crown, had got no further than Hobart
Town. At length, however, the noble
exertions of a gentleman who had been unceasing
in his inquiries into every fact connected
with my case were successful. About a
week after my removal to Van Dieman's
Land, I received the intelligence that a
conditional "pardon" had arrived, giving
me liberty, though without permission to
land in England.

The superintendent, who communicated
to me this news, said, "You must give
me your prison clothing, and proceed to
Hobart Town, where you will receive the
necessary document." Having no clothes
of my own, or any money or friends to
assist me in that part, I asked what clothes
would be given or lent me to travel in. To
this he merely replied, "I have no orders
about that." The principal communication
with Hobart Town was by water, but as the
pardon was unaccompanied by any authority
for a free passage, I was unable to obtain
one. By land it was about ninety miles,
through an almost untrodden region—a gum
tree wilderness—without for the greater part
any roads, except a slight kind of sheep track,
at many places quite effaced by heavy rains;
but I was compelled to go, and for aught
that the Government provided me, under such
extraordinary circumstances, I might have
wandered to Hobart Town naked and without
food. My miserable fellow prisoners
however had more compassion, and clubbed
together such few odd articles of wearing
apparel as they happened to possess; and the
superintendent and the religious instructor
kindly eked out the charity of those whose
fellow captive I had so long been, to enable
me to set out upon my journey—a wandering
mendicant round the earth—having
the fixed resolve to proceed to Paris, a
distance of twenty thousand miles, there to
renew my struggle for that justice which I
knew must be the result of a re-examination
of the facts of my case. I sometimes travelled
thirty miles of that weary, though welcome
journey, without seeing a human being from
whom to inquire my way. Knowing, however,
the position of Hobart Town, the sun
served as my compass by day, and the stars
by night. My course sometimes lay along the
sea-coast; but oftener deep in the woods, on
emerging from which, the scenery was often
extremely beautiful. After crossing
mountains and fording streams, and sleeping
occasionally in the shade of a tree, in three days
and three nights I reached my destination.
Had a stage harlequin suddenly made his
appearance, hecould scarcely have attracted
more attention than I did, in my motley,
illfitting suit. I was, however, soon metamorphosed,
being most kindly received by the
chaplain and the Judge of Assize who had
known me in my captivity.

After a brief stay at Hobart Town, aided by
subscriptions from the Lieutenant-Governor
and other principal inhabitants, I took ship
for Sydney. Here my case was fully reviewed
and investigated, and I received further and
very liberal assistance to prosecute my
journey. In fifty days I reached Canton,